” Her father’s irony deepened. You need not be afraid. I really am enjoying it. Your laugh reminds me of—of——" "Whose, Sir?" demanded Jackson, becoming suddenly grave. The packets were hastily broken open; and, while Wood was absorbed in the perusal of the despatch addressed to him by Sir Rowland, Thames sought out, and found the letter which he had been prevented from finishing on the fatal night at Jonathan Wild's. Manning, in his entirely different dialect, indorsed her brother Roddy’s view of things. “Great!” Cathy squealed.
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